Interference
by Blonde Panther
Summary: Beginning of FE13. We know Chrom found a passed out young woman in a field just outside Southtown... but what had happened to her before he found her? Massive spoilers, that's what. This is a one-shot, NOT a series or a multi-chapter work.


**Disclaimer: **Fire Emblem: Awakening and characters belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

**Characters:** Robin, Grima, Chrom.

**Pairings:** Ain't nobody got time for pairings this early in the game.

**Warnings:** Spoilers. Tasty, tasty spoilers.

_**Author's notes:**__ So, I cleared Awakening the other week, and while I'm VERY far from having obtained all supports I've figured out enough that I should be able to write with the characters. The usual fear of sending characters out of character is present, but I'm going to dip into the cold water and start writing Awakening one-shots. For those of you wondering, Robin's appearance will be consistent throughout all of my Awakening fics but rarely highlighted._

* * *

"…Robin." She looked up at the woman holding on to her shoulders- not that she could see her eyes, so deeply as she had pulled her cowl over her face. "You have to run."

"Did they catch up to us again?" she immediately redirected her gaze towards the road behind them. She didn't see anyone… but she knew better than to question the judgment of her mother, a powerful wielder of dark magic. If anyone could sense the Grimleal catching up to them, it would be her, not Robin.

"Not yet," the woman said, "But they will soon. We can't continue to outrun them together. We'll have to split up- you'll be able to move more quickly on your own, and I will hold them off for as long as I can." As she spoke those words, she drew a purple-covered tome from within her robes, along with a pair of thick, brown gloves. "Here, wear these to cover your mark- the people around here are all Naganite. Find someone who will keep you safe."

Robin took the gloves and slipped them on, but was hesitant to start running. "But Mother, I can't leave you here!"

"Use your head, Robin, not your heart." The sorceress spoke harshly, her words ringing all too true in her daughter's ears. "It's not me they want- it's you. And if they catch you, this world is forfeit. You know that, don't you?" Robin nodded. She wasn't fully certain WHY, but this was something her mother had always told her. "Then go. I'll kill as many of them as I can and keep the others from following you for as long as I can last, but every second you waste standing around here staring at me like a lost puppy, is a second the cult gains on you."

Robin took one step backwards, shaking her head in denial. However, she'd started pulling up her cowl in preparation of her flight. "GO!" her mother screamed, "And don't look back!" Hearing those words, the younger woman turned around and started running, frantically looking around for some sort of cover she could use to buy herself more time. Sadly, there was no such luck in the open plains of southern Ylisse, so she had to rely on her own two legs and the magical capabilities of her mother.

She'd lost track of how long she'd been running when she collapsed, falling to the ground and resting on her hands and knees panting. "No…" she muttered. "Cover… can't stop running until I find… cover… eeek?!" she interrupted her search for a hiding place when something appeared in front of her. It was a shadowy figure, undoubtedly sent by the cult of the Fell Dragon to catch her.

Well, unfortunately for the Grimleal, her mother wasn't the only one who could fight! Robin drew her own weapon of choice –a tome of thunder magic- out from under her robes, opening it right in the middle and holding it in one hand, swinging the other hand towards the figure as she conjured up a small ball of thunder and sent it flying. The spell connected, but seemed to do absolutely nothing, and the figure approached her more closely.

"Cute," it said, before taking solid form. Robin was convinced she was seeing things due to exhaustion… for the form the figure took was identical to her own. Throwing her hand up for a second cast, she was caught completely off-guard by her twin reaching forward and grabbing her forehead. It was like an explosion of images. She saw a deeply tanned man disintegrating in magic not unlike her mother's, followed by a blue-haired, younger man helping her get up from the ground- that same man falling, in pain, clutching his chest as the remnants of thunder magic protruded from him… more and more images, piling up more and more quickly, until finally… darkness.

* * *

"Hmph. Passed out, did you." Grima leant forward, over his old body, stroking the girl's face in thought. What to do about this? He hadn't expected her Heart to be so weak the merging would fail so dramatically. She'd undoubtedly be left with some sort of mental trauma… not that it was his problem. Still, re-trying without preparing her would yield the same results. He was probably best off taking her with him so that he could personally strengthen her Heart… yes, that would be the best course of action.

Just as he took her wrist and prepared to hoist her upon his shoulders, however, he perked. His hearing was vastly superior to that of a mortal, and he heard a voice he hadn't heard in a long time. A deep, masculine voice the owner of which he could immediately picture…

Said picturing of the voice's owner caused all the muscles in his body to give out, causing him to collapse. He cursed mentally, wondering what was wrong with his body that it reacted so violently to the image of a man he had never cared about. There was no reason why it should react so desperately and miserably… unless… no, there was no way. The girl had dropped her guard, which was why he had been able to possess her in the first place. He had used the opportunity to eradicate her fully- she quite simply no longer existed.

And yet, when he forced his body to stand straight, he still found himself unable to do anything other than walk. "Wench…" he muttered, "I should by all means kill him here and save myself the trouble…" However, he was weak. Following that little mortal through time had taken as good as all of his power… if he confronted the man now, he would fall. He was realistic enough to see that.

"You live for now," he whispered to the Fellblood before him. "And so does he. Next time, however, I will be stronger, and you will not be so lucky." He stroked her face once more. "I suggest you don't grow too attached to your dear Chrom." With those words he straightened himself, disappearing as suddenly as he had appeared.

* * *

"Well, this isn't something you see every day." Chrom stopped as he spotted the human-shaped lump lying in the field. Standing over her, he wasn't sure whether to try and wake her up or to leave her be. For the meantime, he settled for taking her in. She appeared to have fallen, removing her cowl so her face could be seen, and the Prince of Ylisse had to admit he wasn't displeased with what he saw.

Her face was set in a serene expression, undoubtedly courtesy of her current lack of consciousness, and framed by thick black hair, although the majority of it seemed to be bound together at the back of her head… he couldn't tell for sure with the way she was lying on the ground. Her body… he tried his best not to let his eyes wander too far. "Chrom," Lissa said, "We have to do SOMETHING."

"What do you propose we do?" he asked in return. It wasn't that he disagreed with his sister- they'd be terrible Shepherds if they did nothing. But what was he to do? Lissa could heal, yes, but she had to know where the wounds were… and they didn't even know WHY the woman was out cold. For all they knew, she could be-

A quiet grunt drew his attention over his sister's 'I dunno.' Looking back down at the woman, he saw she'd opened her eyes. "I see you're awake now."

* * *

Her head pounded, but she could vaguely decipher two shapes in front of her eyes. A man and a girl… The man helped her stand up, revealing there was a third person with them. She didn't recognize any of them, but then again that meant little… considering that no matter how hard she thought on it, she couldn't so much as recall her own name.

And yet, somehow a different name surfaced. "Thank you… Chrom."


End file.
